


Siren's Song

by valammar



Series: Sing With Me [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Chubby Inquisitor, F/M, Pirates, Plus Size Inquisitor, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, plus sized inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valammar/pseuds/valammar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say dead men tell no tales, and Cullen is sure his fate is sealed the moment he discovers a secret about the ship's captain. The self-indulgent, frivolous Pirate AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siren's Song

Meal times were always teeming with camaraderie. After a long day of arduous work, everyone would gather in the galley to soothe their sun-blistered skin and quench the desert in their throats.

It was also impossibly hot below deck. The ship swayed above savage tides and Cullen’s stomach lurched every time he felt the bow roll over another wave. By this point he was sure he’d never get his sea legs, which, combined with his lack of sailing experience, made him the ship’s social outcast. He kept to himself at the back of the galley while the rest of the crew communed over their biscuits, dried meat and pickled eggs. Captain Neb was nowhere in sight. As usual, she took her meals in her cabin after the crew ate their fill. Food was the last thing he wanted right now – even more fodder for their jibes.

“Aw, lookit the poor swabbie. What’s a matter, Curly? The ickle landlubber can’t handle a little rockin’?”

“Oh, _I’ll_ give ‘im a little rockin’ - _in me bunk_!”

“That’s enough! Save it for another time,” Blackwall, the ship’s quartermaster, bellowed. Neb’s trusted second was an expert at keeping the peace whereas Sera, his first mate, loved nothing more than to rile the crowd back up again.

“S’about time for some singin’ anyway, yeah? Splice the mainbrace!” Everyone cheered as they passed around fresh pitchers of ale. The small elf glided from floor to chair to tabletop with the athleticism of a trained acrobat, raised her full flagon to cue her shanty and the rest of the room followed suit:

 

_Have a drink on me, mates_

_Have a drink and be jolly_

_Have a drink on me, mates_

_May your rum never run dry_

_For we’ve barely got started_

_Having now just departed_

_On the high seas with high winds_

_‘Neath a cerulean sky!_

The ruckus was overwhelming. Soon every crewman joined her in a slew of off-key _heave hos_ while pounding their fists against their creaky tables, creating a miasma of noise that made it impossible to think. With everyone distracted, he made his way above deck. No matter how tumultuous the waves, the cool wind provided instantaneous relief. Gripping the rails, Cullen inhaled deeply, reveling in the misty spray on his reddened cheeks. He could still make out the rambunctious crew roaring lewd limericks below but he wasn’t paying attention, instead he focused on the breeze rattling the rigging and the glimmering constellations that lit up the inky black sky. That was when he heard it: another voice, haunting and sweet, carried on the wind – and it was coming from the captain’s cabin. Maker, Neb was _singing_.

It wasn’t prudent to pry. He was a lowly subordinate. He was still alive only because he took orders well and proved himself to be a capable swordsman. Yet before he could convince himself otherwise, his legs climbed the steps toward the cabin door, her siren song luring him to his inevitable end. If he was caught, Neb had every right to keelhaul him as punishment. That didn’t stop him from peering through a crack in the door.

Blessed Andraste, her voice was mesmerizing. Her soothing soprano soared over dazzling arpeggios with perfect pitch. Her song was no raunchy tale of a smuggler’s daughter. It wasn’t even in the King’s Tongue; no, if he wasn’t mistaken it was from an Antivan opera. Cullen had heard of the grandiose theatres in Antiva City and Val Royeaux where trained vocalists performed tragic love stories for the wealthy elite, though how a pirate captain had become so familiar with such an enchanting aria was an even more alluring mystery.

Her back was to him as she preened in front of her vanity, though he had a perfect view of her from her mirror. Her red velvet coat hung in the wardrobe and she donned only her corset, tunic and breeches. It was the first time he’d seen her hair out from underneath the large feathered hat she always wore and he was bewitched by the way it cascaded over her shoulders in silken waves, framing her feminine face. She continued to sing while running a hairbrush through it, and he couldn’t quell the thought of his fingers doing the same.

 _Fuck_ , he shouldn’t be thinking that, but some nights she was _all_ he could think about. He needed to leave before something happened. Cullen was just about to scamper back downstairs before anyone noticed he was gone when she opened the drawer beneath her and a familiar blue glow caught his attention.

It was a vial of lyrium, branded from the same shipment his crew had been transporting to the Ostwick Circle when Neb’s ship intercepted. Cullen knew that whatever he was seeing was absolutely forbidden, but his knees buckled when the Captain tipped the vial to her lips and drank it in one vigorous gulp.

She heard his surprised gasp, and before he could gather his thoughts, Neb had spun around to the door and swung it open, catching him in the act.

“ _You_!” she hissed, yanking him by his shirt collar and pulling him inside. Cullen was a dead man now, he knew it. He knew it before she pulled the blade from her belt and held it to the pulse at his throat. “How much did you see?”

“I…” Neb was unsatisfied with his ineloquence and pressed the blade tighter.

“ _Talk!_ I could hang you for mutiny over this!”

He needed to choose his words carefully; to come up with something in his defense that would grant him a swift death. What came out instead was, “…You’re a mage.”

Vitriol shifted to shame and Neb lowered the knife. She looked down, causing strands of chestnut hair to fall in front of her eyes. Just like that, she looked so fragile, so exhausted, as if she’d spent years counting all the minutes until her secret was discovered. “So you saw everything.”

Suddenly, all the pieces in Cullen’s mind fit together. “When your crew attacked our ship—the lyrium—that’s why you were waiting in Ostwick Bay. You weren’t just hoping to fetch a price on the black market. It was for _you_.”

She remained silent and he wondered if she was contemplating pulling the knife on him again, slicing his artery with one quick swipe and thus protecting herself from further scrutiny. Cullen was so disliked that she could kill him for no reason other than boredom and her crew wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Instead, she walked to the table and reached for a bottle of rum, poured two glasses and handed one to him.

“ _Some_ of it is for me,” she said. “The rest will sell once we dock and the proceeds go to my crew. I take only what I need.”

He felt like he already knew the answer, but he had to ask, “Why do you hide it?”

Neb’s whiskey eyes met his. “A captain is equal to her crew, Cullen. A ship’s captain who turns out to be an apostate with unholy abilities? Who could ‘fall prey’ to demonic possession in the middle of the void-ridden ocean? That’s not a leader – that’s a threat. I’d be as good as marooned if they found out.”

“Does anyone else know?” he asked, finishing his cup.

She nodded and also drained her glass, placing both of theirs back on the table. “Blackwall. He keeps my secrets and I keep his.”

“Does he also know you sing opera? Where did you learn it?” _Foolish_. Her hand was still playing at the handle of the dagger in her belt. Having asked such an insubordinate question, Cullen winced in preparation for a strike that never came.

“…You heard that too, then,” Neb sighed.

“You’re a noble, aren’t you? A noble and a mage: a pirate’s two greatest nemeses in one person.”

“So you think you have me figured out, do you? Is that all I am?”

“Captain—“

“ _Neb_. You seem to know all about me, might as well use my name while you’re at it.”

“…Are you going to execute me?” It was too blunt, but he needed to know how much time he had left.

She was quiet, and the only sound in the cabin was the creak of the ship against the roaring sea. “Why did you volunteer?”

“I’m sorry?”

Neb took a step closer and Cullen was immobilized, trying not to breathe heavily, wondering which inhale would be his last. “When we raided your ship, the rest of the crew surrendered but you requested to join us up front. You’re not a sailor. You can barely tie a knot and if you weren’t as handy with a cutlass as you are with a mop you’d be dead. What about sea life was so utterly tantalizing that you’d resort to piracy for it?”

Before he could articulate a reply, the ship heaved and sent the two of them tumbling. Her body crushed against his and he instinctively gripped her waist to steady them both. Her hands did the same, clutching at his shoulder blades. The ship leveled but they were still embraced. Their eyes held for an endless moment.

 _Maker’s breath,_ she was decadent. Generous curves and heavy breasts pressed against him so tightly he could feel her rapid heartbeat. He had to resist the urge to tear at the lace of her corset, to liberate her lush frame from its confines, to greedily run his large hands over every inch of her, to squeeze and savor the soft give of her flesh.

“To kiss you,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I joined because I wanted to kiss you.”

Now it was her turn to give sharp gasp and her eyes roamed his face. If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked at him as if she wanted him too; as if she’d felt the same longing over these last few months. “And what about now? Knowing what you know?”

“Now…I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life,” he breathed. Cullen knew how anxious he sounded but he didn’t care. There was still a chance he would die, and the threat of a noose made him bolder.

They were both breathing sharply, waiting for the other to make a move. “Then have me,” she said.

With that, desperate hands and desperate mouths were nothing but a whirl of motion like two ships caught in a spinning eddy. Cullen could feel a tingle up his spine that filled his lips with lightning as he kissed her hard. She whined into his mouth, tongue seeking his. His hands roamed her body, drawing back slightly to reach down and grip her ass. Neb took his cue and slung her arms around his neck, allowing him to hoist her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

 _This_. This is all he ever wanted. He could feel the powerful muscles in her thighs tense and quiver around him while she kissed him fiercely, his whole body alight. She clawed at his back, fingernails trying to snag his shirt. He pressed her up against the cabin wall and raised his arms so she could tug it over his head and he groaned as her fingers traced his bare skin.

There was no talking. Neither had the patience. Neb was already undoing the lacing at his breeches, easing his pants down his hips until his cock sprang free. She gripped him firmly and he felt his breath catch and stutter in his throat. Cullen shifted, settling her weight on his thigh between her legs and she moaned at the added pressure. She was enjoying this as much as he was, and the way she rolled her hips against him told him she was just as frantic.

"I need you," he rasped.

Neb pressed on his chest and he stepped back, setting her down. She tore at the hooks along the front of her corset while backing him up toward her bed. The ship creaked again with enough force to overbalance him onto the mattress. Cullen sat and watched her eagerly as she revealed more of herself to him. Away fell the corset; down fell the dagger with a clang; off came her leather boots, one by one - Cullen did the same with the rest of his clothing. She stood only inches away from him now, just barely out of reach, gripping the hem of her tunic. Then she hesitated and he nearly whimpered. He could just barely make out the swell of her breasts and the peak of her nipples beneath the sheer linen and he ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation. If she still wanted to kill him, she could kill him with want.

" _Please_ ," he begged.

That was all she needed before she discarded her tunic as well as her leggings. There she stood, completely nude before him, and _fuck_ if she wasn't the most glorious being he'd ever seen: sun-freckled and soft, curves like the hourglass on her flag, with wide hips simply _begging_ to be gripped. Maker, she _was_ a siren and he'd gladly drown for her.

"You're beautiful." He was shaking his head in disbelief; disbelief that he was really _here_ , that she was naked and closing the gap between them. "You're absolutely beautiful."

She blushed and let out a shaky laugh. She so easily transitioned from imposing captain to simply _Neb_ again but her shyness didn't last long. She tumbled into his lap, settling softly against him and it was better than anything his mind could ever form. He was caught in her.

"I want you too," she said, rising up on her knees and using her hand to guide him.

His voice was strangled as she sank down, easing her way until he hilted and she moaned, their bodies locked together. Taking a hold of his shoulders, she started a slow, mechanical rhythm. She found her momentum and quickly picked up the pace, overcome by the sense of urgency over it all. They cried out shamelessly together. Cullen tilted his hips so she could take him deeper, lightly thrusting every time she fell onto him. He clutched at her hips just like he wanted, pulling her to him, urging her on. There was nothing like being inside of her, as far as he was concerned he'd just died and reached the Golden City itself.

Neb's beautiful eyes held his gaze with a look of pure ecstasy and he was overcome with gratitude that this was happening. She rode him as mercilessly as the cresting surf, but whether she was calm or tempestuous, he'd want to take harbor in her. He wanted more. He wanted to growl into her ear and tell her how sexy she looked when she wielded her blunderbuss on deck before he spread her legs _wide_ and made her come with his tongue. He wanted her on her knees, that beautiful mouth enveloping him, teasing him, drawing out his pleasure - pleasure he'd repay three-fold. He wanted her legs tangled with his as they lay side by side in her bed where he could cup her face and let her know that she was breathtaking every damned day.

She leaned back, arching her body so her hands rested on his knees which gave him ample room to suck and lick at her breasts, her freckled shoulders, at the white starburst scar on her collar bone where a pistol just missed her heart. Every sweep of his tongue drew another hiss of pleasure from her. Cullen was trembling between frantic puffs of breath and he knew he was close. Heat flared in his gut, begging for release, but he wouldn't end without her. He touched her fervently, rolling her clit between his fingers and she dug her nails into his skin. Neb's legs were shaking, breath coming out in her own jagged gasps when one final flick of his index finger made her shriek. "I'm--!"

Cullen surged forward and pulled her against him while they rode the waves of her orgasm, sending him over the edge. His whole body went rigid and he came so hard that his vision blackened from the relief. They clung to one another as they panted and shuddered and felt the world shatter around them. It wasn't until their breathing finally slowed that they let go and toppled onto the blankets, smiling contentedly.

It was the best sex of his life.

He expected Neb to push him away, but to his pleasant surprise she snuggled into him, nuzzling her soft cheek into the crook of his neck. It felt like safety, like warmth, like….

"I love you," she said. It was so gentle, so quiet he almost didn't hear her over the billowing winds outside. _She loved him. Was this really happening?_

"I love you, too. Maker, I love you so much," he croaked and held her tighter.

"I don't know what this means for us now."

"We can figure it out together."

"The crew will talk. Secrets don't stay secrets for long. If they find out about us, then they could find out about…"

He shushed her like a parent soothing a frightened child, caressing her back in slow circles. "Nothing changes out there. You're still my captain and the integrity of your ship comes first."

..."Thank you."

"Just to clear the air: you're not going to cut out my tongue so I can't gossip, are you?" he jested.

"Oh, no!" she cackled, sitting up to kiss him. "To destroy that tongue would be an even greater tragedy, and I still have so many ideas for it."

She grinned, radiant, and Cullen found that he was smiling, too. "Then I'll be sure to put it to good use."


End file.
